The Only Tour We'll See?

I saw the Tour de France today.

If you thought that was a cheap trick to get your attention, well, maybe it was.  The Tour normally doesn't begin until early July, a little more than two months from now.  Its organizers say that it's been rescheduled to begin on 29 August and run until 20 September.  Given how many other races and other sporting events--not to mention concerts, festivals and other gatherings--have been canceled altogether for this year, it wouldn't surprise me if this year's edition of the race meets a similar fate.

But, I tell you, I really saw the Tour today:

OK, it wasn't the race.  For that matter, it's not like any bike that would be ridden in one of the world's major competitions.  It seems rather like any number of other basic hybrid bikes one can buy:  probably not terrible, but not fantastic either.  Not bad looking, though.

Oh well.  It might be the only Tour de France we see this year.

Ben Banks On Re-covery

If you've been reading this blog for a while, you know that I like Brooks leather saddles.  I ride them on all of my bikes except Martie, my Fuji Allegro.  It's a commuter/errand bike, so it doesn't get ridden for more than an hour at a time and gets parked on the streets in all kinds of weather.  For the same reasons, the Cannondale mountain bike I gave Georgios didn't have a Brooks saddle.

The main reason I ride them, of course, is that I find them comfortable once they're broken in.  But I also believe, perhaps erroneously, that they're better than other saddles for "green" reasons.  When the leather or vinyl covers of plastic-based padded saddles (like the ones from Cinelli, Bontrager and other companies) rip or deteriorate, they are as likely as not to end up in a landfill.  

Well, it seems that someone is trying to address that issue.  Someone who sells under the name "BankBen" on Ebay has contracted with a furniture upholsterer to re-cover those seats. (He writes the word as "recover," which made me think, at first, that they had been rescued--which, one could say, they were.)  There are Flite-type racing mounts as well as Avocet-type seats.  Here is a lovely example of the latter:

The red paisley covering came from an old piece of furniture.  So did the olive-covered top on this one:

and this nice brown distressed leather cover:

and this gray suede:

 



So, these saddles offer a double benefit:  They're recycling, not only what people sit on when they ride, but what the might recline in after the ride!

Coming Out

The other day, I rode to Connecticut.  It was one of the most spring-like days we’ve had so far:  bright and breezy.  So, I encountered a little more traffic than I’ve seen during the past few weeks.  On the other hand, I can remember very few days, under any sorts of circumstances, when I saw more people on bikes.  Some were cycling in groups, others solo, and a number of families were riding together in and around the parks in New Rochelle, Mamaroneck and Rye.

I also remember few times when tulips seemed so bright or beautiful—even if they were growing on the war memorial monument in the Greenwich Common.

The Persistence Of Riding

What if Salvador Dali were to design a bicycle?

An Essential Worker Gets What He Needs

If you've been reading this blog, you might remember that back in June, I got a 1996 Cannondale M300 mountain bike for not much money.  I fixed it up and turned it into a pretty decent city commuter.

It was actually good for the purpose:  I could ride it over almost any pothole or other obstacle without thinking.  It gave a smooth, fairly responsive ride, but I didn't have to worry about parking it because, in ten different shades of battleship gray, it didn't attract much attention.

So why am I talking about the bike in the past tense?  Well, I learned that Transportation Alternatives, of which I am a member, was participating in a program to give bikes to essential workers who are trying to avoid the subways and buses as they run less frequently and are thus more crowded. (Subway cars and buses been described as "Petri dishes" for coronavirus.)

I have my Fuji Allegro, which had been sharing commuting duties with the Cannondale--and had been my commuter before the 'Dale came along.  I got to thinking:  I have two commuter bikes and I'm not commuting.  Someone else has to commute and doesn't have a bike.

So why did I decide to give the Cannondale away?  Even though I installed upright bars, fenders and a rack, it's still a fairly close to its original self.  The Fuji, on the other hand, is a bit more idiosyncratic: The ways in which I altered it might not appeal to everyone.  Also, it fits me better than the 'Dale--and it's a mixte.

I sent Transportation Alternatives the bike's measurements and my height.  They found Georgios,an emergency-room doctor at Mount Sinai Hospital-Queens, just two blocks from where I live.  He's a little shorter than I am, and the bike has a long seatpost extended fairly far out, so the bike could be adjusted fit him well.

Georgios:  a hero.

The other night, when he finished his shift, we met.  Georgios, who's from Greece, told me his bike had been stolen and since the pandemic struck New York, he had been walking to work from Manhattan--about eight kilometers--because he didn't want to take the subway.

He'd applied to Specialized bike- match program, but all the bikes were gone, he told me.  He said, almost apologetically, that if Specialized contacts him and offers a bike, he'll pass the Cannondale on to someone else who needs it.  I told him not to worry:  If he likes the Cannondale, he should keep it, even if another bike comes along.  Besides, I am not about to place conditions on anything I give to someone who, in the course of doing his job, has seen patients as well as co-workers die.

I'm having a bad hair day--and week--and month!

All I asked is that he stay in touch: I want to be sure he's OK.  And I hope the bike is useful and brings pleasure for him.

R.I.P. John Forester

The things you read in adolescence never really leave you, even if you stop believing whatever they teach you.

For some people, the things they read passionately during their teen years include the Bible or other holy books.  Some people continue to immerse themselves in such texts.  But even if you convert to another religion or become an atheist, whatever holy text you read (or were fed) when you were young continues to influence your thinking.

For other people, those literary works might include Atlas Shrugged.  I have to admit, it (and The Fountainhead) had a hold on me for a time in my life. As John Rogers has pointed out, AS or The Lord of the Rings "can change a bookish fourteen-year old's life.  Of those books, he says, "one is "a childish fantasy that often engenders a lifelong obsession with unbelievable heroes," which leads "to an emotionally stunted, socially crippled adulthood" in which one is "unable to deal with the real world."  The other of those two books, he says, "involves orcs."   

My mind was also seized, at various times, by Les Miserables, Fathers and Sons and A Tale of Two Cities, as well as poems by Lawrence Ferlinghetti and Hilda Doolittle.  And, since my "formative years" as a person also just happened to be the years I was born, if you will, as a cyclist, I was--and continue to be--influenced by three cycling books in particular.  One is Eugene Sloane's Complete Book of Bicycling because it was the first comprehensive book about cycling I read--or even saw.  Before I encountered it, I didn't even know that books about bicycling existed.

Next came Tom Cuthbertson's Anybody's Bike Book, from which I began to teach myself how to fix my bike.  It also taught me about writing and teaching, even though I really wasn't thinking about becoming an educator or writer.  He had a "light touch":  He took his information seriously, but could convey it in a friendly, even humorous, style.

Later, another cyclist would introduce me to what might be one of the most controversial cycling books of all time.  What made it controversial is that it wasn't just a cycling book:  It was also a critique of the way urban planners were treating cyclists--and of the way cyclists saw, not only traffic, but themselves.

That book is Effective Cycling.  When its first edition was published in the late 1970s, some cities were building bike lanes and even installing separate signs and signals for cyclists.  The thesis of EC was that all such efforts were misguided or wrongheaded.  In order to become viable options for transportation, planners and cyclists themselves had to treat the bicyclists as vehicle operators rather than as faster pedestrians.  

Its author, John Forester, was a lifelong cyclist who became an activist and advocate.  That avocation began in the early 1970s, when he was ticketed for cycling on a street rather than the adjacent bike lane.  He fought--and beat--the ticket because, as an engineer and planner, he was able to demonstrate that cycling in the bike lane was indeed more dangerous than cycling in the street.

Although his arguments had merit, they gained little traction among planners who, for the most part, perpetuated the mistakes he railed against.  One reason why those ideas weren't more widely implemented is that they were (and are) radical and therefore a threat to established notions about automotive and bicycle traffic.  Another reason might have been his style, which--in contrast to Sloane's earnestness and Cuthbertson's humor and relatability--was often called "preachy" or even "abrasive".  

Whatever you think of his idea of the "bicycle as vehicle," his critiques of bike lanes and policies were spot-on.  Unfortunately, four decades after EC's initial publication, I make some of the very same criticisms in this blog.

His long career--and his cycling--continued almost until the end of his life, which came last Tuesday.  He was 90 years old.

Cycling Under A Pink Cloud

Yesterday we had a deluge.  Today it was cloudy, breezy and chilly.  Still, I saw unmistakable signs of spring during my ride this afternoon.

Whether or not a garden is artfully arranged, flowers lift my spirits.  To paraphrase Will Rogers, I've never met a flower I didn't like.

Am I sentimental?  Perhaps.  I will admit to being a romantic, even a hopeless one.  My newest dream is a bike lane under a canopy of cherry blossoms.

Some people talk about being on a "pink cloud."  I think I got a glimpse of what it might be like to live under one.  It would be very nice.  At least it was, for the brief moment I spent under it.

Earth Day X 50

Today is Earth Day.

Fifty years ago today, this "holiday" was first observed. (I wonder whether some company or organization gives its employees a paid day off.)  Interestingly, the then-nascent environmental movement coincided with the origins of modern campaigns for gender equality and LGBT rights--and what was, arguably, the peak of the Civil Rights and anti-Vietnam War movements.

It also was about the time the North American Bike Boom was gaining momentum.  At that time, cycling was seen as integral to "helping the planet."  That connection became more tenuous during the 1980s and 1990s, as environmental concerns receded from public consciousness and too many cyclists acted like wannabe racers.  (I admit, I was one of them!)

From Bike and Roll DC

Today, while the mass gatherings normally associated with Earth Day are not possible, given the COVID-19 epidemic, we can (at least in most places) still ride to wherever we need to go--or simply to get out of our rooms, apartments or houses!

WHO Do you Listen To?

It wasn't a surprise because it was.

One could say that about many things Donald Trump has done.   He says and does things almost no-one could have anticipated, and they therefore come as a shock.  But they don't surprise us because the Cheeto In Chief has a history of doing things we wouldn't expect of anyone else.

An example is his decision to cut US funding to the World Health Organization.  I don't think even Herbert Hoover, the last American president who could claim to be an isolationist, would have done such a thing had the WHO existed at that time.  But Trump, at least since he started the campaign that led to his election, has voiced--and acted with-- disdain for anything that fosters American cooperation with the rest of the world. An example was his pulling the US out of the Paris Climate agreement.

So, if he hadn't already cut off America's financial contribution to the WHO--just as the world is in the COVID-19 pandemic--the organization's latest recommendation might have roiled him enough to hold up the money.

"Whenever feasible, consider riding bicycles or walking," the organization recommends.  These activities provide "physical distancing while helping to meet the minimum requirement for daily physical activity, which may be more difficult due to increased teleworking, and limited access to sport and other recreational activities."

Now, the fact that the WHO's recommendations are based on science and logic would be troubling enough for Trump. His ire, though, would be compounded by long-standing hatred of bicycles and bicyclists, to which I've alluded in this blog.

To be fair, there was a brief period when he didn't hold--or at least express--disdain for anything without a motor and with fewer than four wheels.  He took the Tour DuPont, then on the verge of becoming one of America's, and possibly the world's, major races and re-branded it as the Tour de Trump.  This was around the time Greg LeMond was winning the Tour de France, and bike racing seemed ready to take its place as one of this country's major sports.  In brief, he saw it as a business opportunity.

He later returned to his velo-phobia, culminated with his mocking of John Kerry when he got into a bike accident.  Imagine if that had happened now--just as the WHO is recommending cycling as a means of transportation and recreation during the COVID-19 pandemic.

A Sign Of Things To Come?

I should have seen this coming:

a folding electric bike.

It actually makes a certain amount of sense, especially in cities like New York and Tokyo.  

Still, it looks pretty odd--at least to me.